A Parents Love
by thisEternalLove
Summary: They had watched their little girl grow from that shy, quiet, friendless, bookworm into the woman that stood before them; a brave, intelligent, loyal, beautiful eighteen year old. And they couldn't be any prouder of the most intelligent witch of her time.


**Disclaimer: I don't own the books, characters, films or anything like that. I do, however, own my imagination. I think.. maybe. **

**Author's note: Hermione's parents remain unnamed, so I've named them Michael and Susan.. because that seems like dentist names.. I think. **

**~ A Parents Love ~**

"_**Mummy, they call me names, they wouldn't let me play."**_

She held her baby girl close to her, a smile creeping onto her exhausted face as she held her daughter for that very first time. She had dreamt of this moment for so long, holding her perfect, little miracle in her arms, dreaming of never letting go of her. She looked up at her husband, her heart jumping a little at the tears of pride, and of happiness in his eyes as he stared down at his newborn baby girl. "Our little Hermione.." He whispered softly, kissing his wife's head before taking the baby in his own arms, cooing over her.

They weren't supposed to have this moment, they had been told so many times by so many doctors that this moment would be near impossible. But _keep trying, _they were told, _there's still hope. _And so they did, and eventually after the longest wait, they were blessed with a perfect little girl. A little girl who would get so much love from the both of them.

Her big brown eyes stared up at them, so much love and trust in them already before she closed her eyes to the world, and fell asleep, safe in her fathers arms. He laughed softly, not wanting to put her down, "She's perfect.." He whispered, not wanting to wake the sleeping baby he held so close to his chest. Susan nodded and smiled softly, "She's special.. I can tell.. she's different from everyone else." Michael nodded in agreement and kissed Hermione's head.

~ .. ~

She was a toddler when they started to realize just how special their baby girl really was. Their tiny, bushy-haired little girl ran around the garden, squealing in delight as she made flowers grow even in the winter, clapping her hands every single time she did something amazing, but unusual. They weren't sure how to react when food would mysteriously fly across the room, or when glass would shatter when the little girl angered, or got upset.

Susan remembered her words; _she's special, she's different from everyone else. _But she had never imagined anything like this, neither of them understood, but they accepted this difference, wanting her to have as much of a normal childhood as possible. She was their little girl, and nothing could change that.

~ .. ~

Susan remembered the first time Hermione ran into her arms after school, tears running down her little face, _mummy, the other kids hate me, I didn't mean to do it, mummy.. I really didn't mean to do it. _And she could nothing but hold her child close to her, playing with her hair as other parents walked past with their happy children, talking about their first day at school and how many friends they had made. She and Michael knew kids could be so cruel, but she never dreamt of her daughter running and crying into her arms.

Hermione's innocence at five explained to them how she hadn't meant to get upset, but how one of the boys had made fun of her teeth and of her hair, they had laughed at the book she held in her hands – a book that held intelligence past her five years. She hadn't _meant _to get mad, or upset, and she hadn't _meant _to make that very same book fly right into his face. At five, she was beginning to question her 'gifts', not being able to understand them herself, _but mummy, how can you expect the others to understand, when I don't know why I am so different? _Susan couldn't answer, just shaking her head at Michael when he looked sadly at the two girls in his life.

~ .. ~

The bullying continued, even as Hermione eventually learned how to control her own emotions. She'd always be known as the strange girl, coming home and crying to her parents almost every day as she tried her best to tell herself that friends weren't important. She spend her weekends with her parents, doing everything with them, while all the other girls her age were going out with their friends, playing and going on trips to the cinema. She hid her face behind a large book, while the girls spoke about magazines, and their favourite music videos, and the best looking boy in the school. She'd remind herself that she wouldn't be part of such menial conversations, even though a part of her longed to be one of those girls.

While all those other girls were going to sleepovers, her dad would go out with his friends, and she'd stay in with her mum, having a girly night in with make-overs and films, and take-away. Hermione – by the age of nine – had told herself that it didn't matter that she had no friends, because she had her parents, and they were the only two people she could ever trust.

By the age of ten, she had come to accept that some people weren't made to have friends, relying on her parents for company. She'd sit in her room , suppressing the need to have someone to talk to her own age, burying her head into a huge book instead. She wanted to learn, all the time, she wanted to learn new things because the pain of being so lonely, and unwanted was too much for a ten year old girl to cope with. She longed to be the same as everyone else, she longed to be a normal ten year old girl because she hated the thought of letting her parents down. _She was their only child, and she wasn't even normal. _

It wasn't until she was eleven that she got the letter, a letter that explained so much, a letter that made her parents swell with pride at the thought of there being more people like Hermione out there. The day they dreamed of because it would mean that their shy, perfect daughter would have others to talk to, to be friends with. And Hermione realized she had finally made them proud, because she wasn't alone anymore.

~ .. ~

Susan and Michael looked at their daughter standing in front of them, neither of them being able to believe she was the little girl they had raised. The shy, quiet, book-obsessed little girl that had no friends, their little girl that had been so alone for the first eleven years of her life.

And now, at eighteen years old, they held her in their arms after over a year of not even knowing who their own daughter was. They had lived the life of married and childless for over a year, because their brave, beautiful daughter protected them from the horrors of the wizarding world. They saw the scars, neither of them mentioning them to her as she told them everything that happened, both of them never being so scared, but at the same time.. so proud.

They couldn't believe that the girl who had left for Hogwarts seven years ago, had matured to be the most fiercely loyal, courageous, trustworthy friend. They couldn't believe that she was possibly the most famous witch of her time because of her loyalty to both her friends, and to her world. This little girl they had raised, had grown to be someone any parent would be proud of.


End file.
